


dragon heartstring

by xuxikr



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dragons, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Blood, Duelling, Flashbacks, Hunters & Hunting, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Kissing, Knights - Freeform, M/M, Mentions of War, Minor Violence, Polyamory, some romance somewhere
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-06-29 10:04:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19827874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xuxikr/pseuds/xuxikr
Summary: The Selection ceremony compels Renjun to marry, but the mumbled rumours about the extinct dragons compel Renjun to a fate he has never prepared himself for.





	1. the rumor of the past

**Author's Note:**

> i will probably have to add tags as i go, but i don't want to spoil anything yet so!! i'll just add more as we go along the fic :) i hope you like it!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To be able to win the Crown Prince’s hand in marriage, they must beat the Crown Prince himself. 
> 
> If Jeno and Jaemin are the best of the best, Renjun is the one who can best them both.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's a slightly graphic depiction of hunting in this chapter!! beware of that

“It’s easy.” Jaemin concludes once Renjun has finished his tirade, dragging his sword beside him so its tip touches ever so slightly against the solid ground. Renjun looks over at Jaemin, eyes running over stretched muscles covered in a sheen of sweat before they avert back up to Jaemin’s eyes, hidden behind falling hair.

Renjun sits up straight, gathers his robes around him and shakes his head. “Did you listen to me at all, Jaemin?”

Jeno, from the ground, after having been beaten by Jaemin in their sparring session, laughs as he digs his sword onto the ground and uses it as leverage to stand up. He’s without a shirt too, and Renjun doesn’t miss the way his taut muscles move with every rise and fall of his chest. Renjun almost can’t look away. “We were listening, your highness.”

Renjun scowls at the way Jeno calls him, when he has reiterated since time immemorial that he prefers just being called Renjun. “Then why are you saying it’s simple?”

Jaemin grins as he reaches him, picking up the scabbard of his sword he has placed haphazardly next to the prince. “We’ve thought about this for a while.”

The barracks give them little privacy, any moment now the Head of Defense can walk in on them chatting ever so casually. If they had been children, it would be a fine excuse for childish chatter, for the prince’s play time, but Renjun has come of age—and he has to choose a spouse, a consort.

And not just any consort, the kingdom demands him to choose the strongest, the most powerful—the one that can stand by him during conquests. This is the partner the king needs.

And if the Head of Defense catches the Crown Prince conversing so casually with his two best knights, Renjun will not hear the end of it.

Renjun looks at his best friends, the boys he has grown up to be men with. He remembers it just like yesterday, when they had been of the same height and stature, running freely by the riverbank as if an entire kingdom didn’t weigh down Renjun’s shoulders.

But now, it’s different. Renjun’s grown up to be king, the blue robes engulfing him signifying his status. And Jeno and Jaemin have grown up to be the kingdom’s best knights.

There’s a gleam behind their eyes that Renjun can understand almost instantaneously, but he responds to this with an immediate denial. “No.” He says, this is with finality. “You are not joining the Selection ceremony.”

“Why?” Jeno asks as he sheaths his sword back, tilts his head for the full effect.

“Don’t want to marry us?” Jaemin supplicates and Renjun’s ears burn red at the implication.

“You are not being helpful.” He complains, ignores the way his heart hammers at the thought of marrying either of his best friends. Renjun wills the feelings away, this is not his choice to make. His marriage is not his choice to make. At least, not fully.

Jeno sits next to him, too next to him that their thighs brush and Renjun can smell the sweat on Jeno. “Think about it, Injun.” There’s his name. A sound of comfort.

Jaemin’s thrown his thin shirt over himself now, has settled on his other side, and Renjun can finally look at him as he speaks. “We join the Selection ceremony, and if we make it—then we make it. The whole kingdom’s expecting us to join, anyway.”

Renjun’s not a fool. He knows how fast the news travels, how everyone has heard of the might of Jeno and Jaemin, the duo that led the victory during the Battle of The Lake. And he knows that the kingdom is rooting for him to marry either of them, the kingdom’s most powerful knights, to keep the power within the borders.

“And if you were pit against each other, for me—would you continue?” That’s not a question. The Selection ceremony binds every candidate to fight until the end, until they are the winner—until they are the sole survivor of the carnage… until they have proven themselves worthy to face Renjun.

Jeno and Jaemin share a look, a smile, and it’s only within the privacy of the Barracks can they talk to Renjun like this, can they talk to him so closely without the fear of tampering with the results due to their closeness with the Crown Prince. It’s only in the semi-privacy of the barracks can Renjun continue to be their best friend, to confide his deepest worries with them.

“We would, Renjun. It is our duty to do so.”

“For duty?”

“For duty.”

The Selection ceremony is held a week after the Crown Prince’s coming-of-age. The preparations are quick but formulaic. Knights, lords, ladies, princes and princesses from all over the continent come travelling to try and best each other for the hand of the Crown Prince in marriage.

The ceremony lasts for a week, a two or four if suitors were overflowing. Each day, different matches happen—until two suitors are left, and the one who wins the final fight must face the final obstacle. Renjun himself.

To become King, one must be strong. To become King, one must be agile. To become King, one must be ruthless. Strength, agility, and ruthlessness—these are the three things their kingdom has been founded upon. These are the three things Renjun has learned growing up. He must become the strongest, the most agile, the most ruthless in order to rule.

This is the reason why Renjun doesn’t desire for Jeno and Jaemin to join, no matter how much his heart thrums at the thought of marrying either of them—his comfort zone. If one of them wins against the suitors, then they must face Renjun. And more than the fondness he has for Jeno and Jaemin, Renjun has to be strong, has to be agile, has to be _ruthless_.

To be able to win the Crown Prince’s hand in marriage, they must beat the Crown Prince himself. And if they fail to do so, only then shall the Crown Prince have the freedom to choose who he likes best.

But he must choose among the pool of suitors, the best of the best, the weak already weeded out by the earlier contests. Renjun doesn’t think of it as freedom, it’s merely a show of power—that the King can have anyone he so wishes. But he knows it’s all false, and all for show.

If Jeno and Jaemin are the best of the best, Renjun is the one who can best them both.

The morning of the Selection ceremony comes with a noise. The trumpets blare as the entire kingdom gather at the arena to watch the presentation of the candidates. On the way to the balcony, Sicheng, the Crown Prince’s cousin and advisor informs him of 300 candidates, ranging from knights of the kingdom and the lords of the Southmost kingdoms. There are suitors from across the seas, across the mountains—all vying for his hand in marriage, all vying for the power being his consort entails.

Renjun watches from the balcony as they are presented, walking into the arena with the kingdom cheering for them. He almost wants to laugh at their bravery, at how they think they’re going to beat him—him, who’s trained by the best—him, who’s trained to kill and _never_ capture. Renjun is ruthless.

Among the crowd of unfamiliarity, of sardonic smiles and commanding stances, there are two people that Renjun’s eyes zero in on. They stand next to each other as if strangers, but bound together by the similarity of their armours, the make of their swords, by the sole purpose of their standing there.

Renjun grinds his teeth together, locks his jaw and puts on an unreadable expression. His father, the current king, sits on a throne behind him—right next to his mother who had once been a formidable enemy, before fate and the Selection ceremony brought them together. Sicheng stands next to him, the drums bellow and the voice of the Host echoes in Renjun’s ears.

“Welcome to the 145th Selection ceremony! This is the fight of your lives, candidates. And if you think you can best the Crown Prince,” the Host gestures towards him and Renjun takes this as his cue to stand up. He is regal where he stands, his grand robe engulfing his petite stature. The clamour of the crowd rings in Renjun’s ears, they’re cheering for their best killer.

He knows he looks small, narrow shoulders and not even six feet unlike the Kings before him, but the advisors and the committee have all agreed on one thing—Renjun is the best their kingdom has seen yet. Renjun holds that title proudly upon the crown on his head.

“Then step forward.” The Host challenges the candidates, and the first two people that step forward, as if in unison, are no surprise to him.

Jeno and Jaemin take off their helmets, Jaemin slightly more gracefully than Jeno but the view makes Renjun’s breath hitch nevertheless. They look up at him and grin.

Out of the 300 candidates, 270 of them step forward, the 30 already backing down at the presence of the Crown Prince.

The contest begins now.

Renjun remembers his first kill.

It’s a tradition, a ceremony, a rite of passage every heir must partake in once they had turned eight. It’s a cloudy morning in March, the morning of his eight birthday.

He’s been trained to hunt ever since he learned how to walk. The instinct of the hunter has been ingrained to the very make up of his cells. And it’s easy, the way the bow feels in between nimble fingers, the way the arrow slots on his hands, the way his eyes adjust to the distance of the doe bounding tens of meters away from him.

His father, right behind him, tells him to be agile—to be quick, to finish it quickly. He must have a clean kill in order to get through the rite of passage, a sign that he’s going to grow up as a good King.

Renjun spots the doe once again as it moves away into a clearing, her ears twitching for any sign of movement or intruder but the King is the best hunter, killer, and warrior of the kingdom—there is nothing that can pass through him, and this skill is what he wants Renjun to inherit.

Renjun draws the string of his bow, and with both eyes open, his golden arrow aimed at the heart of the doe—he releases.

Exhilaration runs through him as he watches his arrow travel the distance and he watches with great excitement as its head plunges deep into the doe, the beast falling down as the red gushes against the green of the grass.

Renjun has made his first kill.

The King celebrates behind him, clapping him on the shoulder with a proud smile and Renjun feels his veins electrified at the feeling—he has made his first kill.

And that begins it, begins his training for Kingship. Later today, the Kingdom will celebrate the Crown Prince’s first kill, but tomorrow, Renjun will enter knighthood and train under the same curriculum all the previous knights and Kings have gone through.

The princess that will battle Jaemin hails from the highest mountains. Rumour has it that she’s seized a dragon, but dragons have been extinct for generations, and the last of the dragons had been their kingdom’s allies. Renjun isn’t fazed by rumours.

But it seems that Jaemin has been fazed by them. He’s been jittery ever since the lots has been drawn for the first battles tomorrow morning. The Host procures his name first from the hundreds of paper slips inside the barrel.

Not even a swim in the river can get Jaemin to calm down. Renjun has sneaked out of the castle, away from Sicheng’s hawk-like eyes and agreed to meet with Jeno and Jaemin by the river in the forests. They are still within castle grounds, of course, near enough for them to run back in the castle if a need for it arises.

Jeno and Jaemin are in their braies, shirts discarded on the grass beside Renjun. Renjun’s fully dressed still, albeit more casually and more fit for sleep, the grand robe gone and he watches as they bathe in the moonlit river. He figures that the swim can help Jaemin get his mind off the battle tomorrow, but Jaemin emerges from the river with Jeno, still that scowl on his pretty face.

“I should be training.” Jaemin says once he reaches Renjun, his braies hugging his waist and the wetness of the fabric drags it down ever so slightly. Renjun pries his eyes away and turns to look up at Jaemin. “My battle—it’s tomorrow morning.”

“We are fully aware of that.” Renjun speaks, softly, calmly, so as to not agitate the already upset Jaemin. “Would you come here next to me, _please_?”

The word _please_ makes Jaemin pause, his big eyes fluttering as his feet drags him to be beside Renjun. Jeno’s by the riverbank, squeezing his braies dry as he watches Jaemin sit next to Renjun with interest.

Renjun pulls Jaemin down next to him, and when Jaemin struggles, Renjun squeezes his arm with finality and the knight succumbs to his prince easily. Renjun places Jaemin’s head on his lap, slender fingers carding through the wet locks.

“You will be fine. It’s only rumours, after all—her seizing a dragon. You trained with me, and I am worse than a dragon.” He tells Jaemin and Renjun hears Jeno’s slight laughter approaching them. But he doesn’t break eye contact from Jaemin, his doe eyes reminding him of the ten-year-old boy he found in a war-torn land. The knights of the kingdom are trained to be strong, but it’s in these most intimate moments that Renjun allows his knights to be vulnerable.

Only for his knights, only for tonight.

Renjun continues his ministrations when Jaemin doesn’t respond. Jeno’s sitting next to him now, his hand reaching out to trace subtle lines upon Jaemin’s collarbone. The three of them paint an unconventional picture, a picture that’s only for them to gawk at, only for them to partake in—and if anyone sees this moment, Renjun is forced to end them.

“Dragons have been extinct for generations.” Jeno comments helpfully. “I don’t doubt that it’s only rumours. How can dragons even exist in the High Mountains, anyway? They’ve always resided in this kingdom, haven’t they?” Jeno turns the question to Renjun now.

Renjun’s been educated on the history of their land for years, his formal education goes hand in hand with his training for battle. A King mustn’t only be strong and docile, a King must be strategic and intelligent. A King must know his roots. And this, he knows for sure.

“Dragons have been our kingdom’s allies for generations.” He begins, remembering exactly what the books and his mentors have taught him. “They live with us like equals, there is no need to seize these intelligent creatures. They got that information very wrongly. Dragons have a will of their own, they are smart, and they are fearless. It’s just a pity that they have been extinct.”

Jaemin has his eyes open now. “Why did they go extinct?”

Jaemin’s not from this land, and Renjun doubts that Jeno has been formally educated for him to know the details. “It was after the Great War.” Renjun narrates. “The War which our current laws and moralities were founded upon. The Great War happened between this Kingdom and the Eastern Isles. The forces of the Eastern Isles overpowered our kingdom, even our dragons—there was rumour that they had dark magic but there haven’t been any reliable sources when it came to that.”

“The Eastern Isles wiped out the entire population of the dragons that resided in this kingdom?” Jaemin asks curiously, his earlier anxiety about the match tomorrow no longer present but there’s a glint of interest in his irises that Renjun’s very much pleased to see.

“Correct.”

Jeno clears his throat and shifts on his seat, the grass uncomfortable underneath him. “I heard a rumour when I was younger.”

This piques Renjun’s interest now, eyebrows screwing together as he turns to Jeno. Jaemin mirrors his expression, but with less vehemence to his countenance. “What rumour, Jeno?”

If this is a rumour Renjun hasn’t heard of, then that will be quite alarming. And yet, it’s not surprising—Renjun has lived all of his life in the castle, surrounded by mentors and advisors and knights. He has never lived outside the walls of the castle where words and news are unfiltered, where everyone passed uncertain news through the word of tongue.

“I was really young… maybe seven?” Jeno begins, relaxing as he tucks himself beside Renjun. “I heard my father talking to another lord, I’m not sure who he is as I wasn’t able to see his face. I wasn’t supposed to be listening to the adults talk, after all. But I remember what they’re talking about, about the dragons.”

Renjun’s on the edge of his seat now, heart beating in his ears and he doesn’t know why he feels so compelled to get Jeno to spit out the rumour already, to tell him what he means, to tell him about the dragons. “What are they talking about, Jeno?”

“The lord told my father that the kingdom has preserved dragon eggs in the dungeons.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UH... so this is it, a dream fic of mine that i have been wanting to write... dragons and royalty and king renjun!!!! updates won't be regular, as i'm not the best when it comes to chaptered fics but i just wanted to bring this baby out into the world... so here she is!!! my bouncing baby girl
> 
> cc: [xuxikr](https://curiouscat.me/xuxikr)  
> twt: [@renduckie](https://twitter.com/renduckie)


	2. foreigner's battle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new face arrives. Renjun remembers all his firsts with Jaemin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aka; the renmin chapter
> 
> there's a swordfight and a little bit more violence in this chapter so please please take note of that!! mentions of blood as well

Renjun knows better than to believe baseless rumours, yet the thought of the kingdom preserving dragon eggs has never left his mind ever since Jeno put that idea in him. He has never heard of these rumours, only their dragon laden history is what he knows but that’s how thing should be, shouldn’t they? Rumours are useless, only false pretences used to get a reaction from the people. And it had been thirteen years since Jeno heard these rumours, they cannot be viable now.

Sicheng wakes him up from a sleepless night with a knock to his door, an announcement that he will enter and pauses enough for Renjun to gather himself. He’s sitting up now, night gown buttoned up to hide the marks where Jeno and Jaemin have kissed last night, just before they came running back into the castle.

“Had a good sleep, your highness?” Sicheng comes into his room, draws his curtains open and Renjun almost feels as if Sicheng knows what he had done last night. He rubs his eyes, wills himself to be awake as he pushes himself out of bed.

“It was fine.” He lies through gritted teeth. “What time is it?”

Sicheng moves away from his curtains, and on to the table where his morning tea has been set down. Renjun walks towards it as Sicheng pours him his jasmine tea. “A few minutes past six, your majesty. You are required at breakfast today and the first match doesn’t start until eight.”

His mind goes away from dragons and to Jaemin. Their _activities_ last night have calmed Jaemin enough to make sure he gets enough rest, but he cannot help but worry for the knight. Although best among the rest, Jaemin has always fought alongside Jeno during their time in the knighthood. They have never been apart, never fought against each other save for the countless amount of times they’ve sparred. Hence Renjun understands where Jaemin’s worries are rooting from.

He sits down on the chair by the table, Sicheng hands him his tea and before he moves away from Renjun to prepare his change of clothing and run his bath for him, Renjun halts him with a jarring question.

“Sicheng,” he begins, looks up from his cup of jasmine tea, “do you know anything about the dragons? Anything that you think I might not know?”

Sicheng pauses in his tracks and Renjun doesn’t miss the way his shoulders tense at the question. Sicheng is a couple of years older than him, and although he hasn’t received the same amount of extraneous education as Renjun has in his teenage, he knows Sicheng has connections, has a way of knowing things, and he doesn’t doubt either that Sicheng knows what has been going on between him and the kingdom’s best knights.

“I’m afraid not, your highness.” Sicheng says finally, after momentarily silence as if to gather his thoughts. Renjun has lived all his life with Sicheng by his side, as an advisor, a mentor, a guardian—he has confidence when it comes to reading Sicheng even without words.

Sicheng is lying.

And before Renjun can speak any words, Sicheng has dismissed the entire topic. “I will now run you a bath, your highness. You are needed to be in the dining hall.”

Renjun knows that Sicheng knows more than he lets on, and what exactly it is, is what he’s going to find out.

Breakfast usually consists of him, the King and the Queen, but there’s an addition of a new face Renjun doesn’t seem to recognize anywhere. He has tan skin, his hair bleached to the colour of the sun, and an unmistakable glint in his eyes once Renjun has walked inside the dining hall.

“Who do we have the pleasure of sharing breakfast with?” He asks as Sicheng pulls his chair out for him, he sits on it, not breaking eye contact with the stranger who sits across him.

“This is Prince Donghyuck.” His father, the King, answers his question. “He’s our beloved guest from the Eastern Isles, he will be over to watch the Selection ceremony and attend the subsequent Wedding ceremony as well. Isn’t that lovely, Crown Prince?”

The mention of the Eastern Isles makes Renjun’s guts churn, an unexplained yet reasonable hatred burning within the depths of his insides at the lazy way the Prince sits on his chair, a smile challenging Renjun.

“The Eastern Isles?” Renjun repeats for clarification, head snapping from the King to their guest. Their Kingdom has been at war with the Eastern Isles for generations, it is the same lands that caused their greatest demise. Yet at the same time, he knows that the recent generations have been attempting to patch things up with the East. What is past is in the past.

Yet—Renjun doesn’t believe that this is all there is to it. He hates not knowing, he hates being kept in the dark. The morning with Sicheng has already agitated him, and now the suddenness of the guest’s intrusion is also beyond his knowledge. Renjun can feel his blood boiling.

Isn’t sharing breakfast with the greatest enemy far too much? Renjun has already lost his appetite, not even bothering to look at what has been served in front of him.

“That’s right, your highness. I am Prince Donghyuck from the Eastern Isles. I would have also joined the Selection ceremony, but our kingdom has already sent our best candidate. Sir Mark, if you must know.” The Prince introduces himself curtly but Renjun doesn’t feel any bit comforted by his words.

“And what brings you to our dining table, Prince Donghyuck?” Renjun asks, toying with his food with no intentions to touch it. “I believe it’s the first time we welcomed someone from the Eastern Isles to breakfast. Isn’t it, your majesty?”

Their Kingdom has never been one for diplomacy, it’s always divide and conquer—and _conquer_ they do. The only form of union the Kingdom holds with any other sovereignty is through the Selection ceremony, hence he doesn’t understand the need for Prince Donghyuck’s presence in their breakfast table.

“It seems that the Crown Prince doesn’t like my presence at the table.” Donghyuck concludes, and Renjun swallows the lump in his throat. “Should I excuse myself to make your breakfast more pleasant for you, your highness?”

The King interjects before Renjun can respond with as much poison to his tongue. “It is fine. You are our guest, and the Crown Prince is delighted to have you here. Isn’t that correct, Renjun?”

Renjun ignores the grumbling of his stomach. “Yes, your majesty.”

Sicheng informs him that the second prince of the Eastern Isles arrived last night, just as the opening ceremony for the Selection has finished hence he’s unable to attend the earlier event. Renjun doesn’t prod further regarding Donghyuck’s presence, of why he’s there and what’s his ulterior motive for brushing elbows with _Uragon_ , their kingdom. He just tells Sicheng to inform him of sudden guests like this, so as to prepare himself properly for greetings.

But all of that is washed away, when the first match of the Selection ceremony begins. It’s Jaemin’s fight today, and Renjun steels himself as he seats on the balcony, the perfect view for the show.

He knows Jaemin will make it unscathed, and if his observations and conclusions are correct, this match will end in less than ten minutes, max. And Renjun has never been wrong when it comes to assessing other people’s skills.

There’s scuffling by the entrance of the balcony, and it’s nonother than Donghyuck, ushered by two guards to his seat and it consumes all of Renjun’s willpower to not roll his eyes at his lumbering arrival.

But he tears his eyes away from the tanned skin prince easily, the blaring of the trumpets signifying the beginning of the match. The arena is full yet again, bets have been placed and Renjun knows that Jaemin will make it.

The princess from the High Mountains enters first from the north gate, her armour of shining steel with her kingdom’s crest emblazoned upon her shield. There are polite cheers for her, but Renjun’s ears pick up on the hecklings more sensitively—the kingdom cheers for its own, after all.

The Host introduces her with his bellowing voice. “In the North! We have the third princess of the High Mountains, Kim Yerim!” The Host announces her list of achievements up in the High Mountains, but Renjun doesn’t even listen to it. Too at the edge of his seat to even pay attention to Jaemin’s competitor for today.

Then, the drums sound the beat of _Uragon_. The bass is heavy, the snares are loud, and the trumpets join the chorus of powerful clamour that signifies Jaemin’s arrival. This particular beat is only played for _Uragon_ knights and royalties. It’s the thundering sound Jaemin deserves. The Southern gates open, and Renjun suppresses a smile at the way Jaemin enters the arena.

“And our very own, one of _Uragon_ ’s finest knights! Na Jaemin!” The Host declares, and this time, Renjun takes the time to listen to his achievements, watching Jaemin intently as he arrives the arena. “He has trained in the knighthood since he was ten years old, and despite his late entrance—Sir Jaemin has climbed his way up to the top of the ranks. He aided in the conquer of The Drylands. Went hand in hand with Sir Jeno during the Battle of The Lake and he is also one of the kingdom’s best knights! _Almost_ besting out the Crown Prince during their Knighthood Examination!” 

He stands tall, posture correct, and helmet tucked underneath his arm. The sigil of _Uragon,_ a royal blue dragon with its tail surrounding a sword is inscribed proudly on the middle of his shield. His sword, heavy and created of dragonsteel, is sheathed in his scabbard. Renjun watches as Jaemin waves at the cheering crowd, his winning smile on his display.

It doesn’t take long before Jaemin catches his eyes and sends him a little wink that has the rest of the crowd hollering.

Jaemin only breaks eye contact to look at the stands, and Renjun understands that it’s Jeno it’s looking at now. Renjun watches from the apex, as Jaemin doesn’t break eye contact with Jeno even as he puts on his helmet, brown hair disappearing under the metal. Renjun smiles to himself, his knight is ready.

The princess of the High Mountains does the same, draws out her sword and Jaemin mirrors her actions. The drums come to a halt, and the voice of the Host is the only thing that can be heard in the pin drop silence of the arena.

“Let the battle… begin!”

Renjun remembers the first time he kisses Jaemin.

It’s the night of Jaemin’s sixteenth birthday, the last of them to turn sixteen. They’re barely boys yet almost men, standing at the transition period of their lives. Renjun knows his fate, but Jaemin must pass the Knighthood Examination in order to continue living in the Kingdom. It had been their agreement, after all.

Jeno’s out of the castle, an emergency at their estate needs his attention. Something about old grandfathers and passing on inheritance. Renjun will make sure to hear all about it when he comes back.

So this is how they celebrate Jaemin’s sixteenth birthday, with Renjun and Jaemin in the privacy of Renjun’s quarters. They’re barely boys and almost men, and Renjun has asked the only person he trusts enough to get Jaemin a gift. _Sicheng_ , of course.

They’re seated by the foot of Renjun’s bed, huddled over the inconspicuous box the gift comes with. Jaemin has grown slightly taller than Renjun now, his shoulders growing broader with each passing day and Renjun’s feelings for Jaemin swaying with every day they spend next to each other. It’s not unlike to what he has confessed to Jeno many years ago, and Renjun is still learning how to deal with all of this.

“Happy birthday.” Renjun greets Jaemin under his breath and pushes the gift towards the younger. “This one if for you, especially made.”

Jaemin blinks at him, wary at the sight of the gift yet there’s that excited thrill behind surprised pupils. Renjun _knows_ Jaemin adores receiving gifts, he remembers the first time he made Jaemin a crown from wildflowers when they were twelve, much younger than they are now, when Jaemin trusted him less than he does now. And he knows that this, Jaemin will like.

“Are you sure?” Jaemin asks. “Aren’t gifts reserved for royalty?”

Renjun laughs lightly, takes Jaemin’s hand and places it over the box. “Gifts are for loved ones.” He tells him, looking up so their eyes meet in the in between of the dark night, the oil lamps in Renjun’s room and the moonlight flooding in through the window their only sources of illumination. “You are a loved one, Jaemin. To me.”

He doesn’t miss the way Jaemin’s cheeks flare up at his words, his small gasp as Renjun rubs his thumb across the expanse of the back of his hand. “Open it for me, yeah? I think you’ll like it very much.”

Jaemin nods resolutely and takes the box onto his lap, undoing the small ribbon Renjun has secured it with.

Jaemin takes his time with unboxing the gift, Renjun sitting on his own legs in excitement for Jaemin’s reaction. And when he finally unravels the gift, the look on his face is priceless, no material object can equate to the feeling that blossoms in Renjun’s chest upon seeing Jaemin’s face light the entire room up.

Jaemin picks it up in between careful fingers and Renjun hears his laboured breathing at the sight of the weapon.

It’s a small dagger, with Jaemin’s initials carved into the blade. The handle is decorated with the reddest dye, an ornate pattern carved onto its pummel. There’s a small red jewel in the middle of it, and Jaemin almost looks disbelieving at the complexity of the dagger.

“For me?” Jaemin asks, looking at Renjun with a plethora of emotions in his brown eyes. Renjun nods.

“The Knighthood Examination is coming soon—and we’re allowed to carry a dagger in addition to our sword… I thought it might be of use to you by then. It’s not too far from now.” He rambles on excitedly as Jaemin angles the dagger so its blade hits the moonlight. The light reflects back onto Jaemin’s face in a steady line.

“Thank you… Renjun—I don’t even know how to give back… you’ve already done so much for me.” Jaemin’s looking at his lap now, the dagger held carefully in a hand.

Renjun doesn’t understand most of Jaemin’s melancholy, doesn’t understand the plight of a foreigner—but he’s there to listen, he is here to try and understand. “Hey,” Renjun breathes out, stashes the dagger back into its box and pushes it aside so he can move forward to be nearer to Jaemin, knees to knees.

“The only thing you have to do—” Renjun half-whispers, his heart in his throat at their proximity. He’s been in this proximity to Jaemin, but not this intimate, never this intimate. “Is to pass your Knighthood Examination.” He cups Jaemin’s cheeks in his hands, making him look at him. “Understood?”

Jaemin blinks back the glaze in his eyes and inhales. When he speaks, he is happy once more—the only thing Renjun wants Jaemin to be. “Understood.”

There is an insurmountable silence, but it’s comfortable, and Renjun hasn’t dropped his hands from where they rest upon Jaemin’s cheeks. “I have… another gift for you… I am not sure if you will like this, but I hope you do.”

Slow, agonizingly _slow_. That is the pace that Renjun moves forward with. He is used to fast, fast, _fast_ , the core values of their Kingdom integrated to his very substance. But now, he holds his breath as he leans headfirst, until his lips meet with Jaemin’s in a gentle kiss. The world around them is in a standstill and Renjun doesn’t sense Jaemin’s breathing against his skin. He’s holding his breath, too.

He pulls away quickly, a complete opposite of how he has come to claim Jaemin’s first kiss. When he meets with Jaemin’s eyes again, there’s a flicker of confusion, then realization, before his expression falls into silent laughter, his head coming down to lay upon the crook of Renjun’s neck as he _giggles._

“Why are you laughing?” Renjun questions but lets Jaemin laugh against the skin on his neck. It’s a relief, Renjun thinks. At least Jaemin doesn’t abhor it.

“I think I liked that. Very much so.”

The princess of the High Mountains has her own skillset to boast. The knights of _Uragon_ aren’t too knowledgeable on the fighting tactics of the High Mountains, as they have always been a relatively peaceful kingdom, never focusing on their mercenaries but once or twice in a generation, such warrior will emerge from the altitudes of the High Mountains.

And in this generation, it comes in the form of Kim Yerim.

Kim Yerim is slighter in stature than Jaemin, but it gives her the advantage of grace and quickness that Jaemin struggles with due to his physique. But what Jaemin lacks in agility, he makes up for it in strength.

Jaemin lunges forward, sword held above him to gain momentum for his next move. He brings the sword down in one, swift movement but the princess deflects it with her shield. However, Jaemin is stronger, taller and he uses it very much to his advantage by bringing his weight down against his sword, the princess straining underneath the combined weight of her shield, his sword and Jaemin himself.

But the princess is not only quick on her feet, but quick witted as well. She turns from underneath Jaemin, drops her shield and uses it to push Jaemin away from her. She has a smile on her face as she beckons Jaemin closer, her sword outstretched in front of her.

Jaemin’s stance doesn’t falter, and when Yerim gestures her sword to the direction of Jaemin’s shield—it doesn’t take Jaemin long before he drops it to the ground as well.

Perhaps, this battle will take longer than Renjun has anticipated.

Renjun remembers the first time he meets Jaemin.

He’s only ten years old, yet with the skillset of an already trained knight. But Renjun still has so much to learn, still so much to see and still so much to discover.

They stand on enemy land, with his father leading the conquest of the Ambermoor, a small town just at the border of the Eastern Isles. They are careful not to step over borders—one wrong move can get them into war with the Eastern Isles once again and as far as Renjun knows, _Uragon_ wants the Eastern Isles to be their allies more than enemies.

Renjun’s father has been leading the charge, with the ten-year-old Renjun in tow on a stallion behind him when they find Jaemin under the rummage of a fallen hut.

The order is to kill and never capture, leave the entire town to smithereens. This is how _Uragon_ gains their lands, conquer—defeat.

“A boy.” His father states when there’s movement underneath the debris from the destroyed hut. Renjun stares him down, realizes that he cannot be any older than him. The boy stands up from where he has fallen, hands balled in fists beside himself as he looks at the King with great loathing. His eyes are cold and piercing, despite of himself.

“Renjun,” the King turns towards him, his eyes never once leaving the odd boy, full of courage in such sunken features. “I think this one is yours to deal with.”

And that is an _order_.

Renjun hops off from his horse, unsheathes his sword from its scabbard and aims it at the child. The child is unwavering, kicks up the spear that has fallen from a warrior next to him and grabs it as it suspends on mid-air. His stance is unstable, knees buckled in and Renjun’s eyes picks up on the slight tremble of the spear.

“You gonna kill me? Huh?” The child challenges, swishing his spear around like a madman. “I won’t let you!”

There is a steadfast want in the child’s eyes, the want to live, the desire to get out of the war-torn town. Renjun sees it, but he doesn’t let himself be distracted by mercy.

It’s Renjun that lunges forward first, quick and light on his feet as he smacks away the spear from his opponent’s grip just with a slash of his sword. The child backs up, picks up the next best thing—a piece of pathetic wood that’s too heavy for him to carry.

Renjun aims for the feet to knock him down, but his opponent jumps and continues his backwards defence, shoving the length of the wood at Renjun’s chest which he dodges with ease. It’s like playing with a toy, Renjun thinks. A toy with so much determination to live and survive. And that makes all the difference.

His opponent is weak, that much Renjun can see without extreme observation but as they continue the backwards and forwards, Renjun sees his strength.

But Renjun gets impatient quickly. He surges forward, raises his sword for a strike and the child accepts his fate with eyes open.

Renjun strikes down, but only enough to graze his cheek with a cut, a calculated move—one he learned when he was nine.

“Father,” Renjun speaks up as the opponent falls down, cupping his cut-up cheek. He looks at his father who has been watching bemusedly upon his stallion. “I want to keep him.”

“You… want to keep him?” The King questions, unable to mask the surprise in his expression and in his tone. “Renjun, we never capture. We kill. That is the rule.”

“It is… but…” Renjun looks at the child again, who’s clasping on to the piece of wood for dear life but at this point, Renjun has no plans of taking his life. “I feel undermined that you are asking me to duel a child who has no training whatsoever. I am made to battle knights, I am made to kill trained warriors, your majesty.” He says this with an unwavering gaze towards the King.

His father smiles, impressed. “And what does the Crown Prince want?”

“I want to take him in. Train him under us until he is worthy to fight me.”

The King clicks his tongue and directs his stallion away from Renjun and the child, but not before leaving his final words. “That _is_ , if you can convince an enemy to come with you. If he fights back, you know what to do.”

His father’s words seem like a challenge to Renjun, and he has never backed down from any challenges.

He turns to the child again, sheathes his sword back to his scabbard and steps forward to him. “I am Renjun.” He introduces. “And you are?” Renjun figures he still has a lot to learn when it comes to communication and making deals, but he’s only ten-years-old, and he’s come to learn quite a lot of things now.

“Do you need to know the name of everyone you will kill?”

Renjun shakes his head. “Not necessarily. Do you want to be killed?”

The child shakes his head no, although reluctantly. He still doesn’t drop the piece of wood he desperately clings on to. The world around them is at war, the men of his kingdom seizing every living person they see, burning houses to the ground but here is the Crown Prince conversing ever so casually with an orphan.

“Then, tell me your name.”

A flicker of hesitation appears upon tired irises, but Renjun lets him think it over, lets him decide. “Na Jaemin of—” he pauses, swallows. Renjun takes note of this. “I’m Na Jaemin of Ambermoor.” He lifts his eyes now, looks at Renjun at full height. “I don’t need your pity. Just kill me now.”

Renjun smiles at him and steps forward, takes another when Jaemin doesn’t back down. “I do not pity you.” He says. “I see a knight in you.”

When confusion becomes apparent on Jaemin’s expressions, he supplicates. “You think you can battle me, and that is impressive. But you are only a child, Jaemin. You have so much to learn.”

Jaemin, slowly, drops the piece of wood now, fists trembling on his side. “You are a child too.”

“That’s why I’m asking you to come train with me—in our kingdom.” He says. “It’s _Uragon_ , I am sure you have heard of it.”

Jaemin’s eyes widen at the mention of the kingdom. It’s an expression Renjun’s used to when anything becomes associated to their name. “I have.”

“Then? Will you join us? Your loyalty to the kingdom in exchange of your life. How does that sound?” And this time, Renjun is sure that Jaemin as bitten the bait. He is hooked on that promise, and Renjun wants to see the knight the bumbling orphan will grow into.

“I will.” 

Yerim makes the biggest mistake of her life.

Her next attack causes their weapons to bind, blade to blade, and Jaemin catches her attack in the nick of time and their positions give Jaemin his biggest advantage yet.

The jewel of the red dagger glimmers under the morning light, and Renjun watches in great amusement as Jaemin takes a swift second to pull it out. Jaemin is quick and sneaky, the dagger is buried into the princess’ side where her armour doesn’t cover. It’s sure to wound a critical vein.

Red splutters out from the gaping wound when Jaemin removes his dagger, pushing the princess away and she doesn’t even dare to look at the blood in her hands. Not Jaemin’s, but her own.

The princess of the High Mountains falls to the ground with a thundering gasp from the audience and Sir Jaemin sheathes his sword. He looks up to where Renjun is, the dagger—a gift from four years ago held up to the sky in his direction. Renjun looks at him with a hint of smile.

Jaemin has won the battle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my friend informed me about the existence of the selection series with sounds SUPER similar to the concept of this fic but i havent read it at all or even heard of it all before writing this so hhh similarities w the series arent intended at all @@ although if it's hunger games... i see where ur coming from
> 
> anyway, i hope you like this chapter!! i'm a real newb when it comes to writing action scenes but ;; ... i hope u can tell me what u think!! of donghyuck and maybe of jaemin's ~past~
> 
> p.s. uragon is like slang from where 1/2 of my family's from that means like headstrong, feisty, daring etc. so i thought its so fitting for renjun's kingdom!!


	3. a discovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “And, to be honest—I don’t think it’s as unrequited as you think, Prince Donghyuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a very soft chapter, i hope you like it! (there's slight/implied sexual content but you can easily skip through it)

“Where are you headed to, your highness?”

A flash of cold air runs the length of Renjun’s spine, his muscles tensing as he hears the familiar voice of his ever so vigilant advisor. From the sound of his voice, Sicheng sounds not too far from him, perhaps a few feet away.

Renjun gathers the composure he needs to face Sicheng. “I do not see why it is of your business, Sicheng.” He looks at his advisor with a steely gaze, chin held up high and the waver of emotions in Sicheng’s eyes when Renjun turns to him is evident.

Sicheng isn’t dressed in his nightgown, his beige robes more formal and reserved for strolls and meetings. He knows Sicheng can be quite uptight, but _not_ this uptight to the point of dressing up for sleep—so he questions. “And you, where are you headed?”

Despite being older, Sicheng still has to obey the hierarchy of their bloodline. Despite being someone who should protect Renjun, Sicheng still has to answer to him. With a slight bow of his head, Sicheng replies. “It is just a meeting considering kitchen matters, your highness. It needs none of your attention.”

“A meeting regarding kitchen matters?” Renjun looks out of the window behind Sicheng’s head, the moonlight filtering in through the stone walls. “At this late hour?”

Sicheng nods his head again, not daring eye contact. “Yes, your highness. There was a problem with the food to be presented at breakfast tomorrow. We have to feed the foreign candidates too, your highness.”

Renjun pauses, the remembrance of the morning when Sicheng lied to him coming back to him. He does not want to create premature judgement, especially not towards Sicheng hence Renjun lets it slide. And besides, right now, Renjun has more pressing matters to attend to. “I see. I’m headed for a walk by the river.”

“By the river? Should I send guards to come with you?”

“Yes, and, no—I’d like to do it alone—if possible. I need to clear my head.” If Sicheng can lie to Renjun, then Renjun can lie to him too. It is a game where two people can play.

There’s a pregnant pause when Sicheng internally debates his options, and when he hesitates about letting Renjun go, he gives him a small reminder. “Sicheng. I am trained to best all the candidates in the Selection ceremony. Surely, I can walk by the river alone, don’t you think?”

Sicheng clears his throat and lowers his head once more. “Of course, your highness. I just want you to be careful.”

“I will, Sicheng. Have a good night.”

The garden is a private area reserved for the leisure of the royal family, no outsiders can enter the premises unless they have the invitation of a member of the royal family. And when the royal family only consists of the King, the Queen, and Renjun, it’s mostly Renjun that spends his time in the garden. The King and the Queen have never been fans of botanicals.

He shares jurisdiction over the Kingdom with his parents, but here, in the secret garden of roses and tulips, Renjun has the sole sovereignty.

He wades the maze of hedges and finds the shrine built for the First Dragons. It’s a marble edifice, with glass windows and golden chains. It has been unlocked for the Crown Prince’s benefits, and to Renjun, the shrine has become an extension of his own quarters.

When he steps inside, the grand statue of the First Dragons welcomes him imploringly. There’s _Araw_ , the legends and the stories have always depicted them to be of red and black, their scales shining like obsidian under the glimmer of sunlight whenever they took their flight. They’re posed in the middle, with the two other dragons next to them.

On _Araw’s_ right stands _Tala_ , their wings spread as if to take flight. _Tala_ is of shades of gold and white, every movement they made looked as if a pile of treasure was in motion. They always flew in the night sky and appeared to be one of the stars. Their books say _Tala_ guarded them in the night, while _Araw_ took responsibility of the day.

Then, there is _Ulap_. The books don’t have explicit depiction of _Ulap_ as their appearance was more sporadic compared to _Araw_ and _Tala_ , but _Ulap_ is the reason for their advance war tactics, for _Ulap_ is white and translucent, light and fast like the wind that barraged _Uragon_. _Ulap_ always spied on the enemies and told the previous Kings exactly what to do.

The three of them have passed many years ago, but their legacy and impact to Uragon will always stay. Hence, the veneration they received through the statues spread through the kingdom and this, the shrine in the royal garden built just for them.

But now, something more interesting is lying down beneath the grand statue and Renjun rids himself of his heavy robe as he strides forward with a mischievous grin.

Jaemin is perched upon Jeno’s lap, his shirt tugged down low enough for Jeno to kiss down the length of his neck and collarbone. The sight is enough for Renjun to be excited, for his blood to be travelling south at the sight of the two of them. “Starting without me?” He asks, settling on the spot next to Jeno as the soft pillows underneath them shifts.

Jaemin pulls away from Jeno with a laugh, cupping Renjun’s cheeks as he places a kiss against the Crown Prince’s lips. “Jeno got excited. He said he wanted to kiss me the moment he saw the princess’s blood, thank goodness he’s at the stands.”

Jeno protests from in between them and Renjun turns around to give him a kiss, too. “He was really skilful! That was an amazing fight, and he deserves a kiss after doing so well.”

“I agree with Jeno,” Renjun says, his hands finding purchase upon Jaemin’s hips and Jaemin gets the hint, he moves easily from Jeno’s lap to Renjun’s now, encasing the Crown Prince with his legs. “I think you deserve a kiss.”

Jaemin’s cupping his cheeks again, calloused hands pressed against soft skin and Renjun doesn’t waste one second before he’s closing the gap between them. He kisses Jaemin tenderly, hands massaging the side of his waist just ever so gently. Jaemin tugs on his lower lip, and Renjun opens his mouth to comply.

Renjun feels Jeno’s heavy gaze on them, Jeno’s strong hands running strokes on the small of his back is enough to send shivers down his spine. Renjun pushes his hand up the gap of Jaemin’s shirt where it has been pulled from Jeno and Jaemin’s earlier ministrations. He presses down his ribcage, runs his thumb along Jaemin’s nipple, and when Jaemin flinches, Renjun pulls away, worried. “Is everything alright?”

Jaemin looks down at his ribcage, where Renjun’s soft hands rubs soothingly. Jeno’s hand comes to rub at the back of Jaemin’s nape, equally worried. Jaemin inhales, shifts a little so he can pull his shirt off from the back. “Yerim kicked me pretty bad,” he says and Renjun takes his hand away to look at the spreading bruises on his rib.

Renjun looks up at Jaemin, feels his chest constrict at Jaemin being hurt. Jeno’s hand rubs along the other side of Jaemin’s torso, and Jaemin grabs at Jeno’s arm to keep him steady. “Have you gone to the healer’s?” Renjun asks, his hand presses against Jaemin’s cheek.

He leans against Renjun’s palm, eyes closed. “I have. I was told to rub an ointment on it every day. They also gave me medicinal tea.”

“And have you rubbed ointment on it?” Renjun asks, knowing how Jaemin can forget to take care of himself like this unless he’s reminded.

Jaemin chucks his shirt to the side, leans forward to give Jeno and Renjun a peck. “I did. And I did injure the princess far worse, didn’t I? Don’t worry about me—I have endured far worse. This is _nothing_. Can we go back to where we stopped?”

Being with Jeno and Jaemin brings tranquillity to him. They are more than best friends, and more than lovers—their entire worlds revolve around each other. They are his safe space, the people he has grown to be dependent upon. Maybe the circumstance they have found themselves in is fortunate, or perhaps it is unfortunate—but somehow, they make it work. They will make it work.

He doesn’t know what will happen if, or _when_ Jeno and Jaemin battle each other for his hand in marriage, but he knows—he knows that he has enough skill on him to be able to win against any adversary that may come triumphant in the Selection ceremony… and then—the right to choose will be his. He knows that he must choose, sooner or later, between Jeno and Jaemin. They are, from day one, his only options—his best choices. His only ones.

Yet, his choice is a conversation they still have to have. It is too premature to talk about it now, when Jaemin has just finished the first battle and when Jeno still yet has to face his first opponent in the coming days. But still, Renjun braces himself for that day—for when he has to make his decision, for when he has to injure one of them to be able to win the fight.

But that moment feels eons from now, with the number of candidates that are trying out for his hand, Renjun wants to be stuck in this moment right now, with his hand down Jeno’s trousers and Jaemin’s lips sucking marks against his chest. He lies with them, and he feels forever.

Lips slick and skins covered with a sheen of sweat, Renjun asks Jaemin and Jeno to hang outside of the shrine where a large chair is held up by the growing vines. The air in _Uragon_ is cool, especially at night, and it helps Renjun to clear his mind when he’s got a lot of things going on. With his robe hanging off his shoulder, the high from his pleasure still clinging to him, Jaemin and Jeno sitting next to him, Renjun can almost fall asleep like this.

But there’s a distant rustling to the east of their location, and Renjun’s trained ears pick up on it quickly. He pushes his robe up his shoulder, grabs Jaemin’s and Jeno’s wrists as he starts to get on high alert. “Do you hear that?” He asks them, eyes wide with worry and voice low enough for a whisper. “Did you see anyone else come here?”

Jeno shakes his head. “No, we made sure no one was here when we arrived.” There’s another rustling, sounding as if it’s nearer than ever.

It’s Jaemin that pulls them up to their feet, crouched so they can be hidden by the tall hedges. “We have to get out of here.”

But Renjun disagrees. This is his jurisdiction, he owns sovereignty over the garden and anyone that trespasses shall be and _must_ be punished for breaking the law. He steels in his spot, Jaemin and Jeno looking at him with confusion when he doesn’t move away. “No.” He says this, firmly. “I am the future King, and you are our Kingdom’s best knights. Why should we run away when a trespasser is in _my_ garden?”

Jeno’s shoulders visibly deflate at that as he looks to Jaemin, who looks as equally embarrassed. “We understand, Renjun… but at _our_ state?”

Renjun’s eyes flit from Jeno to Jaemin and down at himself. They’re at varying shades of dishevelled, with purple marks blooming over the skin where their shirts cannot hide—Renjun knows how fast news can travel and he understands that Jeno only wants them to be safe, to not be caught, but this decision is Renjun’s to make.

“Fine. You and Jaemin can go, I’ll check who it is.”

“Renjun—it’s not that—”

But Renjun doesn’t hang around long enough for him to hear Jeno’s explanation that he already knows. He has a responsibility to Jeno and Jaemin, bound by their feelings and intricate bond—but he also has a responsibility to the kingdom given to him ever since he was born. He cannot be lax at the thought of someone trespassing over his jurisdiction. He loves Jeno, he does, but now is not the time to listen to hesitance.

He wraps his robe tightly around him so it doesn’t touch the ground when he walks. Renjun is light on his feet, his stature giving him that advantage and he doesn’t mistake the familiar pair of footsteps behind him. He knows his actions will entail a conversation with Jeno later, but he doesn’t have to face that now, what he must face is the intruder.

There’s another sound of rustling and Renjun’s head snaps to where it is, breaking into a run at the direction of the noise but he can only catch a quick glimpse of brown robes before it disappears behind a large acacia tree, where the fountain of _Tala_ is located.

What Renjun finds behind the tree is _Tala’s_ fountain, the water active as it showers _Tala’s_ statue with glittering liquid. Renjun catches his breath, wary of every sound and every movement around him.

Jeno and Jaemin are right behind him. “Did you see anyone?” Jaemin asks and when Renjun turns to face him, his dagger is out for defence.

“I saw someone with brown robes, but they disappeared before I got here.” He explains as he begins to round the circumference of the fountain, looking around the vicinity for a presence of anyone. “Are you sure no one came in here before the two of you? This garden if off access to anyone—it’s hard to even locate…”

Jeno answers him, although avoiding eye contact. “We made sure, your highness.” Renjun tenses at the honorific, the previous affection laced with Jeno’s tone gone. “Should we alert the guards of trespassing?”

Renjun clenches his jaw as he looks at Jeno, chin held high. “Can you take that embarrassment, Jeno? Our guards knowing that someone trespassed the garden without _us_ knowing? The greatest knights and the future King? What do you think are they going to say?”

Jeno flinches at the sharpness of Renjun’s tongue, and Renjun sees from the side of his eyes as Jaemin puts his dagger away and feels him wrap his arm around his waist. “Renjun… we are all on edge, we have to calm down to think.”

The Crown Prince nudges Jaemin away, distances himself from Jaemin as he turns away from them, head in his hands. He’s feeling so many things at once, anger, embarrassment, anxiety—how can he be so lax to let someone into his garden this easily? How can Jeno not react with as much vigilance as he does? He has to find the culprit and punish them for their crimes. It’s surely not the King and Queen, then who can it be? Questioning the palace staff without it being suspicious is going to be hard—he has to be smart about this, he has to make an intelligent decision.

“Is there a party going on?” A familiar voice breaks their tension and Renjun’s hands falls from his face as he whips around to face the intruder.

It’s Prince Donghyuck of the Eastern Isles, a wicked smile on his face as he leans against the acacia tree. Renjun zeroes in on his brown robes, and it seems to be the only thing he’s wearing. Jeno and Jaemin are in their defensive stance, hovering over Renjun to guard him from the trespasser.

Renjun pushes past them, secures his robes tightly around him and exhales. “You are on private property.” He states, takes a step forward as the other prince remains unmoving. “You trespassed.”

“I am a visitor.” Donghyuck’s grin is never leaving, even as his shoulders come up in a nonchalant shrug. “The King said to treat the castle as mine, so I decided to take an evening stroll and stumbled upon your lovely garden. Nice dragon.”

“Their name is _Tala_.” Jeno interjects. “You ought to pronounce their name with respect.”

“Sure, sure—so… what’s the deal with you three?” Donghyuck plucks himself away from the tree and takes a step near them, his eyes going from Renjun, to Jeno, and Renjun doesn’t miss the way his gaze lingers a little longer on Jaemin and the marks on his chest. “Are they your consorts, your highness?”

Renjun clears his throat and inhales, hands clenching and unclenching beside him. “That is not the point, Prince Donghyuck. You disobeyed our Kingdom’s law. I am sure that in the Eastern Isles, trespassing is also prohibited… is it not?”

Donghyuck pries his eyes away from Jaemin to look at Renjun. “I wasn’t aware that the garden is for your own purposes only, Prince Renjun.” Donghyuck bites back. “Cut the visitor some slack, yeah?”

“Ignorance of the law excuses no one. You committed trespassing, and you should be tried for it in our court.” Renjun grins as patient as he can. It takes all his willpower not to take down Donghyuck. He can do it, the way Donghyuck stands lacks defence, he can easily go for the ankles and proceed his ambush from there.

“Oh, come on.” Donghyuck doesn’t seem to be treating him too seriously. “Surely, you do not want to ruin the good budding relationship between our Kingdoms just because of a misunderstanding, yeah?”

“Then you should have thought of that before walking around this late at night in the castle grounds without a supervisor.”

“We’ll assist him outside at your orders, your highness.” Renjun hears Jaemin beside him. “Take him to the dungeons if you so order.”

“Oh? Is that so, Sir Jaemin?” Donghyuck narrows his eyes at Jaemin, and Renjun feels Jeno shift next to him, ready to tackle if any need for it arises. “Look, I know your _secret_ —the three of you, so how about we come to a truce. I don’t tell, you don’t tell. That’s a pretty fair deal isn’t it? The image of two knights and a future king, in exchange of one prince not even meant for the crown. Surely, you’ll consider this, Prince Renjun?”

“You wouldn’t dare—” It’s Jeno that charges forward, but he’s halted once Renjun takes him by the wrist.

As much as Renjun does not want to admit—Donghyuck is right. If any word of this encounter gets out within the boundaries of this garden, not only Renjun’s name but also Jeno’s and Jaemin’s will suffer a toll. More than that, his Kingdom’s political state is also at stake. He has to _think_ this through—and as long as Prince Donghyuck is in his Kingdom, he has to be wary to not make bad impressions on the visiting prince.

His instinct is to fight, to argue, to engage in _war_ if any sort of conflict arises—he is trained to defeat and conquer but Renjun has learned since then about making political connections, about choosing his battles and knowing which side to take and which side to anger. “It’s a done deal, then.”

Jaemin protests, and Jeno looks at him with a gaze of confusion, eyes narrowed, and eyebrows creased together but he pays them no mind. Instead, he steps forward and grins at Donghyuck, hand held out for a shake. “No word of this event shall get out of the boundaries of this garden. For this time, I shall forget that you trespassed, and you shall forget anything and everything you have witnessed in this garden.” 

Donghyuck’s grin is back on his face and his robe falls loosely on his shoulder when he makes a move to grab Renjun’s hand to shake it. “It’s a deal, your highness.”

Renjun fights the urge to grip Donghyuck’s hand firmly.

Renjun chooses to go back to his quarters alone, sending both Jeno and Jaemin to assist Prince Donghyuck back to the west wing of the castle, where the visiting prince resides for the duration of his stay. Despite finding a settlement with Donghyuck over the misunderstanding, Renjun is still on edge regarding the security of the castle. How come Donghyuck appeared behind them when the person he’s in pursuit of disappeared before he can even get to the fountain? He only saw a glimpse of the robe but he _knows_ that Donghyuck’s robe is of a different make. If only he arrived a little earlier, then he surely would have successfully caught the culprit—Donghyuck or otherwise.

On top of that, there’s still the rift between him and Jeno. He promises them that they will talk in the morning after the duels, and they must reserve every word once they have all properly rested and collected their thoughts. The three of them understand each other better than anyone has, and yet—Renjun feels as if some conversations are long overdue and he must have it with them in order to work it out. Jeno’s hesitance on seeking the trespasser didn’t sit well with Renjun, and especially that Jaemin seemed to have sided with the other knight. Renjun tries to not allow bitterness on his tongue as he thinks about it.

He washes himself when he gets to his quarters, changes into his nightgown and slips underneath the covers. The clock tells him it’s three hours past midnight, and the sun is about to rise in a few hours. Soon, Sicheng will come barging into his room to wake him up but Renjun cannot bring himself to fall asleep.

He doesn’t know for how long he has been staring outside the window, but he knows it’s long enough for the rays of the sun to begin peeking from behind the dark clouds. Renjun sighs as he pushes himself up, the migraine from staying up all night and the ache in his muscles are catching up to him yet—sleep doesn’t seem to be too fond of him today.

Renjun despises overthinking, he despises the way his mind races at the thought of endless possibilities that may happen now that Donghyuck knows about the three of them, now that someone is trespassing his garden. He cannot even discuss this with Jeno and Jaemin, cannot even let it out properly—hence, Renjun changes into the robe he’ll wear for the duels today and exits his quarters, exchanging sleep for a walk.

The castle grounds have been mapped into the back of Renjun’s mind for as long as he can remember, he can trudge around the area with his eyes closed and know exactly where he is standing. Every nook, every cranny is familiar to Renjun like an old song—the castle holds no secrets to him.

But it seems, that within these walls of the castles that bear no secrets to Renjun, secrets are being whispered about in hushed tones.

He hears it in the perfect timing, just as he rounds the open hallway, passing behind one of the great columns that serve as the foundation of the castle. The conversation is held by two voices, one familiar—and one not so quite, but it’s hushed in a tone that tells Renjun he shouldn’t be eavesdropping—but he does.

He makes no effort to hide himself, for the persons in conversation have not noticed his arrival. Instead, he stands behind the pillar where the two people are conversing and Renjun’s heart gallops out of his chest when he realizes the familiar voice.

It’s Donghyuck.

“Do you really have to do this, Mark?” He hears Donghyuck say, distress obvious in every syllable that he speaks. Renjun recalls Donghyuck mentioning Sir Mark during the breakfast, but he hasn’t gauged their exact closeness or relationship.

“You know I do, Donghyuck—not just for the kingdom, not just for my family… but for myself. We’ve had this conversation before, haven’t we? I don’t understand why you chased me all the way here.” There’s bitterness in Mark’s tone, and despite Renjun not having met the knight before, he can already envision his expression as he talks to Donghyuck.

Donghyuck doesn’t speak for a while, and in that moment, only the sound of the rustling leaves and the gust of the wind can be heard. “But what about me?” The sound of Donghyuck’s voice surprises Renjun, it’s croaked with the beginning of tears, unexpected from the arrogant prince of the East. “What about _us_?”

“This is more than just about you— _us_ , Donghyuck.” Mark inhales and Renjun hears the pivoting of heels against the concrete. “If I back out, what do you think will the Crown Prince of _Uragon_ think of the Eastern Isles? What do you think will happen to the relations of our Kingdoms? I have to fight—and I have to do my best, I cannot put the name of our Kingdom to shame.”

“This is foolish! This whole ceremony is senseless! What if you die? What if you die fighting for someone that will never choose you or want you?! The Crown Prince _cannot_ love you like I do.” Donghyuck’s statement feels like cold water has been poured upon him, chilling him to the bone.

If Donghyuck forgets about their deal—then Renjun’s done for. Jeno and Jaemin might be disqualified from the ceremony, and he doesn’t trust the knight of the Eastern Isles to keep his words. Either he finishes this conversation now, or he lets Donghyuck run his mouth.

Before he can even completely think it through, his feet move before he can think his plan over. He appears from behind the pillar, clearing his throat as if he has just passed there. Donghyuck and Mark whip their heads around to look at him, eyes wide and faces stricken with embarrassment at getting caught.

He grins at Donghyuck as Mark gives him a courteous bow, reminding himself of his status. “Is everything okay here, gentlemen?”

Donghyuck’s eyes are bleary with emotion, his fists clenching and unclenching by his sides and in the second that it takes for Donghyuck to gather himself, Mark beats him to speaking. With his head still bowed at the Crown Prince, Mark answers. “Yes, your majesty. We were just discussing some matters regarding the Eastern Isles. I was about to take my leave, if you so allow.”

Renjun pauses for a moment, lets Donghyuck blink back his tears before he responds. “Your duel is today, isn’t it Sir Mark?”

Mark lifts his head slightly to look at Renjun. Donghyuck is still not looking at him. It surprises him how he feels the slightest hint of sympathy towards the other royalty, in a way, Renjun understands him, in a way, their stories resonate with each other—in a way, they are even. “It is, your highness.”

Renjun smiles at him. “Then you best be on your way. I wish you the best of luck, may the gods bless you.”

Mark bows his head at Renjun once again, pauses to look at Donghyuck before he bows his head towards the Eastern Prince, who’s looking everywhere but at Mark or Renjun. The way Mark’s eyes linger on Donghyuck is reminiscent of something from years ago to Renjun, the pining, the fear of lost affection, the ache of a first love—all communicated within a single glance. It leaves a taste in Renjun’s mouth that he isn’t sure how to think of.

Now, he knows Donghyuck will make a bargain, something that might shift their deal to his favour so Renjun awaits until Mark is out of earshot before he brings it up to Donghyuck.

“Sir Mark, then?” He says, the slightest hint of teasing in his tone. He feels more comfortable now around Donghyuck, knowing they both know each other as profound as this—that they both have each other in vulnerable situations.

Donghyuck turns to look at him, arms crossed and eyes red. It’s only now that Renjun notices that Donghyuck hasn’t gone to sleep either. “You already have two valiant knights at your feet. Don’t tell me Mark’s your type now… if he wins the selection—"

Before Donghyuck finishes his sentence, Renjun cuts him off. “He won’t win the Selection ceremony, because I will—and you _know_ my options.”

It all aligns in Renjun’s mind now, the way Donghyuck was late to his arrival to the kingdom when the candidates arrived a day before the opening ceremony—perhaps Donghyuck came all the way here to make sure Mark doesn’t win. Perhaps Donghyuck was scouring the castle earlier to look for Mark and have this conversation with him.

It’s odd to Renjun, to see the Eastern Prince look this distraught and embarrassed. He always thought that the children of the Eastern Isles always held themselves with some sort of arrogance and pride, but as it seems, love does things to people. “I will not lie to you, Prince Donghyuck. I heard your discussion, and I only stepped in because I feared that you would renege on our deal.”

Donghyuck runs a hand through his hair, tousling it as he smirks at Renjun, all feign confidence to salvage whatever image he has left. “I am a man of my word, your highness. I may not be next in line for the throne, but I am raised with as much integrity as my brother.”

Renjun straightens up, smooths his robe and gives Donghyuck a tight-lipped smile. “I was just making sure that you won’t hold your knowledge against me, Prince Donghyuck.”

The foe sighs, proud shoulders deflating. Renjun raises a brow at the shift in his defiance. “Well… there is no point in trying to hold your love story against you. You caught my darkest secret… I’m in an absurd unrequited love. It’s foolish, I guess we’re truly in a truce now.”

“Love makes people quite foolish.” Renjun laughs, shaking his head and tries to not remember how Jeno used to look at him like how Sir Mark looks at Donghyuck. It’s oddly comforting to have an ace against the Eastern prince, too. For them to be in sort of a standstill when it comes to something so close and personal. “And, to be honest—I don’t think it’s as unrequited as you think, Prince Donghyuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> surprise! markhyuck :P 
> 
> araw - sun  
> tala - star  
> ulap - cloud
> 
> tell me what you think of the dragon names and the dragons themselves! :D  
> cc: [xuxikr](https://curiouscat.me/xuxikr)  
> twt: [@renduckie](https://twitter.com/renduckie)


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